The Conversation
by Jamie August
Summary: Mulder breaks into Doggett's house in the middle of the night and they have an. . .*interesting* conversation. This one is both Mulder- and Doggett-freak friendly. Yep, I think I pulled that off pretty well.


_TITLE: The Conversation_

_AUTHOR: Jamie August_

_RATING: PG_

_SPOILERS: I'm sure there are a couple, but I'm too damn lazy to look them up. They're nothing major, at any rate._

_DISCLAIMER: say it with me now: Everything X-Files belongs to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions (the "I made this!" people). I'm not being paid, and I don't see any reason to get all pissy about this. I'm being nice to everyone involved. Oh, and I have to give credit to Lone Gunfreak, 'cuz I make reference to her story "The Requiem Horror Picture Show". Hope that's cool._

_SUMMARY: Doggett wakes up to find Mulder in his bedroom, and they talk about why Doggett hasn't found Mulder yet, who's more loved by the fans, and a few other things that don't make a lot of sense. I believe this one to be both Mulder-freak and Doggett-freak_ _friendly. It's humorous, but not out and out comedy. Or maybe it is. I can never tell. I tried not to go overboard._

_ARCHIVING: Ask me. I'll say yes unless your website really, really sucks. ****_augustdragon81@netscape.net 

_AUTHOR'S NOTES: I am of the Doggett-freak persuasion. Mmm, Robert Patrick. . . *wipes drool off the keyboard in order to continue irrelevant Author's Notes* Actually, I have very little to say here (for once). I'm neglecting an original story to write this one. *shrug* That's about it. Enjoy._   
  
  
  


# The Conversation

* * *

  
  
  
  


"You're not trying very hard."   
  


Special Agent John Doggett woke with a start, his hand reaching automatically for his gun.   
  


"Whoa, pardner. I come in peace."   
  


Even to Doggett's sleep-filled mind, the voice sounded amused. He pulled himself to a sitting position and flipped the bed-side lamp on, rubbing sleep from his eyes. After letting his eyes adjust to the sudden light, he squinted at the person sitting on the edge of the bed. Realizing who the person was, all traces of grogginess were wiped from his head. "Mulder?"   
  


Mulder grinned. "In the flesh."   
  


Finding it hard to settle on just one question from the dozens that buzzed through his brain, Doggett stared at the other man for a moment, keeping his hand ready to reach for his weapon. "How did you get into my house?"   
  


"Same way Scully did a couple months ago. You know, you really should keep the front door locked."   
  


Doggett shook his head. "I do keep it locked. At all times."   
  


"Oh." Mulder frowned. "Then how did I get in?"   
  


"That's what I'm asking you."   
  


"Oh, well." Mulder shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I didn't come here to discuss home security."   
  


Blinking, Doggett shook his head again. He knew he should detain Mulder as quickly as possible, but at the moment he had too many questions. "What was the first thing you said to me? I'm not trying very hard? What did you mean? What are you doing here?"   
  


Mulder held up his hands. "Slow down. Yeah, you're right. I said you're not trying very hard to find me."   
  


"You're here now."   
  


"So?"   
  


"So it looks like I found you."   
  


Mulder laughed. "You didn't find me. I found you. You don't even know where to begin looking for me."   
  


"Hey, I think I've done a damn good job so far, considering the facts - -" Doggett stopped and almost felt the need to slap his own forehead. "You say I don't know where to begin looking for you. I don't need to. You're here now."   
  


"You're repeating yourself, John."   
  


"Oh, we're on a first-name basis now?" Doggett reached for his handcuffs and slapped them on Mulder before he had a chance to react. "Now I know where you are, and you're going to stay here until you've answered my questions."   
  


"Okay, but you're not going to turn me in to the FBI."   
  


Doggett raised his eyebrows. "No? And why not?"   
  


Shaking his head, Mulder had to chuckle at the other man's irritated look. This was more fun than he'd anticipated. "Because if you do, you're off the X-Files."   
  


"Well, that's sort of my goal, Mulder." Doggett sat back down on the bed and gave Mulder a satisfied smile. "I bring you in, and I'm out of that basement and back to work on some _real_ cases. And most likely on my way to an assistant director position. Now, why would I care if I'm taken off the x-files?"   
  


Mulder leaned over, laughing. He stayed in this position for almost a minute; hands cuffed behind him, head resting on his knees, body shaking with mirth. When he finally gained control, he lifted his head to meet Doggett's bemused gaze. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he exclaimed, "Not the case files, man! The show. I'm talking about the show. If you ever found me, Chris Carter would write you off the show, probably by having you die in some terrible way. _That's_ why you haven't been trying very hard to find me. Come on, admit it."   
  


"I don't know what you're talking about."   
  


"Yes, you do."   
  


"No, I don't."   
  


"Yes, you do."   
  


"No, I --" Doggett stopped and closed his eyes, refusing to be drawn into such a childish exchange. "Mulder, where the hell have you been?"   
  


Mulder frowned, considering the question. "Well, I guess it depends on who you ask. According to some, I'm dead. Some people think I staged my own disappearance." He laughed. "You know, there's this one chick who insists I crash-landed from one spaceship into the castle-ship from _Rocky Horror Picture Show_. You know what I'm talking about?" After glancing at Doggett, he shrugged. "No, you probably don't. I'm guessing you've never even seen _Rocky Horror_."   
  


Giving him a level stare, Doggett nodded. "I'm going to ask you again, Mulder. Where have you been all this time?"   
  


"Skinner watched me being abducted. You do the math. Boy," he shook his head in mock exasperation, "you're one of those people who needs everything spelled out for you, huh? You don't even believe things you see with your own eyes unless you have scientific corroboration and twenty eye-witnesses, do you?"   
  


"I don't believe in alien abductions. Try again, Mulder."   
  


"Tell me, Doggett. How much crazy shit have you seen since coming onboard the X-Files, huh? I'll tell you. Stuff much crazier than a little alien abduction, and yet you don't believe me when I lay the truth right in front of you. That skepticism is another reason you have to stay on the show."   
  


"All right. I'll bite. What are you talking about now?"   
  


"With me gone, Scully turned into a believer. You are now the resident skeptic, filling her old role. If I were to come back, you'd be killed off, and we'd have two people running around believing every crazy theory, and no skeptic. The balance would be totally thrown off."   
  


"The balance on the show."   
  


"Right." Mulder grinned. Finally, his replacement was getting it!   
  


Doggett took a moment to collect his thoughts, wondering if perhaps Mulder had been subjected to any mind-altering drugs while he'd been away. That would account for his nonsensical talk about 'the show'. Still, he had to admit that some of what the man was saying made sense. God help him, some of it made perfect sense. "Mulder, why would I be killed off if you came back? You keep saying that, and I don't see why."   
  


"Two words: fanfic writers. Or would that be three words?" He went to scratch his head, then remembered his hands were cuffed behind his back. He shrugged instead. "Oh, well. Anyway, the Mulder-freaks wouldn't allow you to live if I came back. Let's face it, John, there aren't all that many Doggett-freaks yet. And even if they didn't kill you on the actual show, there are so many teenage girls out there with computers. You wouldn't be able to keep up with all the 'kill Doggett' stories. I'm sorry, man, that's just the way it is."   
  


Head spinning, Doggett leaned against the wall and held up a hand. He felt himself being drawn into Mulder's fantasy-world against his will. "Wait. Why would I be killed? Like I said, as soon as I find you, I'm off the x-files and back to legitimate cases. It's a win-win situation."   
  


"Nope." Mulder shook his head, thoroughly enjoying himself. "I don't want to come back. I'm off to bigger and better things. And even if I did come back, the Mulder-freaks would still be pissed that you took so long finding me. They didn't want you on the show at all. Ever. For any amount of time. You're an interloper, worthy only of their scorn and wrath. Sorry."   
  


"Thanks." Doggett's tone was sarcastic. "So, what you're saying is, I'm screwed either way."   
  


"Don't take me in, and you're stuck with the x-files and all that ooky stuff. Take me in, I'm back on the show, and you face certain death. Aren't fans great?"   
  


"Well, what makes you so special? I'll tell you right now, I don't see it."   
  


"First of all, I've got the tall, dark, and mysterious thing going on."   
  


Doggett snorted. "You're only mysterious right now because you happen to be missing. I can take care of that one. Besides, I'm mysterious. Nobody knows a single thing about me yet."   
  


"I have a sister who may or may not have been abducted by aliens."   
  


"I may or may not have a son who's missing or dead."   
  


Mulder raised his eyebrows. "You don't know?"   
  


"Well, it's hard to say. Nobody really knows anything about me yet, remember? But I have this picture in my wallet of a young boy that I take out and pensively stare at every once in a while."   
  


"Yeah, you're a real mystery man." Mulder rolled his eyes. "I have some serious unresolved sexual tension with Scully that drives the 'shippers absolutely insane."   
  


"I have --" Doggett paused, stumped. How do you compete with unresolved sexual tension? He sighed, angry that he'd let himself get drawn into such a pointless argument. Deciding on a course of action, he reached for the phone to call A.D. Skinner.   
  


"You sure you want to do that?" Mulder cocked an eyebrow. "Remember, certain death."   
  


"I don't believe you." Still, he hesitated to push the 'send' button on the cell phone. After mulling it over for a minute, he set the phone down. "So, what would you have me do? Let you walk out of here and keep up some charade of looking for you?"   
  


"It wouldn't have to be a charade. You can keep looking for me. It won't do any good. You won't find me. It's not as if you ever knew where I really went."   
  


"Oh, do tell. Where did you go?"   
  


Mulder grinned and shook his head. "Well, you'll just have to figure that out on your own. Then you'll know everything, won't you?"   
  


Doggett clenched his jaw and thought about it. Let Mulder walk away when he had him so close? Finding him was the whole reason he'd been assigned to the x-files! Well, no, he admitted to himself. Not the whole reason. And, as long as he was being honest with himself, he realized that he had no way of knowing if his superiors would follow through on their word and take him off the x-files as soon as he delivered Mulder. Besides, working the screwy cases wasn't all bad. There was something gratifying about being the voice of reason in an irrational situation.   
  


"Well?"   
  


Picking up the cell phone again, Doggett tapped it against his palm. "I'm thinking."   
  


"Doggett, listen to me. If you want to turn me in, fine, I'll go. But I think you should give the x-files a chance."   
  


"The show?"   
  


"No, the cases. You strike me as a guy who doesn't have much faith in anything."   
  


"And working the x-files will solve that." Doggett's voice was sarcastic.   
  


"Just hear me out on this. Try to believe in one thing: the search for the truth. It'll expand your mind, take you face to face with things you never thought possible."   
  


"I think the phrase 'expand your mind' is just another way of saying it's bound to make your head explode. No, thank you." He stopped bouncing the phone off his hand and began searching for Skinner in the on-screen directory.   
  


"You're not hearing me out," Mulder complained. "Listen to me. At first, a completely science- and fact-minded person has nothing but skepticism for the x-files. Ask Scully. But after a while you fall into a familiar pattern, you accept what you're being shown, and before long, you would fight with everything you have to save them from being shut down. Trust me, I know. There are things out there that you aren't equipped to deal with until you've had experience on the x-files. When the time comes, how are you going to even begin fighting something if you don't believe it exists?"   
  


Doggett sighed, his thumb resting on the send button. To push or not to push, that's what he had to decide. "Mulder, do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"   
  


"All right, forget about that for a second."   
  


"If only I could." Doggett's thumb still wavered over the send button.   
  


"What about your best interests? You've signed off on some pretty unbelievable reports since starting work on the x-files. What do your superiors think of that? Let me tell you one thing, buddy, once you're assigned to the x-files, they never let you go back. It's never a temporary assignment. It becomes your life's work whether you intended it to or not. So, whether you turn me in or not, you'd better get used to that fact. You are now an x-file man. At least until they kill you."   
  


"This is getting too bizarre," Doggett muttered.   
  


"X-file man for life, or you get killed. I haven't quite figured out the reason, but I've got a few theories. . ."   
  


Doggett pushed the send button. As the sound of ringing came through the ear-piece, he turned toward the wall to avoid Mulder's disappointed gaze. After several rings, the phone was picked up and the voice of a very angry Skinner came over the line.   
  


"This had better be a matter of life and death, or somebody's going to be shot."   
  


Doggett considered hanging up. "Uh, this is Agent Doggett, sir."   
  


"Doggett? Do you know what time it is?"   
  


"Well - -"   
  


"I'll tell you what time it is. It's past three in the morning. I was asleep. Now, if this could have waited til morning, so help me god - -"   
  


"Sir, it's about Mulder," he said in a hurry.   
  


Skinner was instantly alert. His tone softened a bit. "Mulder? What about him?"   
  


"Well, he's he --" Doggett turned to face Mulder and broke off in mid-word. He was gone. The handcuffs were at the foot of the bed, but there was no Mulder wearing them. Oh, great. Doggett groaned. Now what?   
  


"Agent Doggett? What about Mulder?" The assistant director was impatient.   
  


He stared at the empty handcuffs, wondering how the hell Mulder had gotten out of them and out of the room without his noticing. "He was here. But, um, he seems to have run off now. Sir."   
  


"He was there? What did he say to you?"   
  


"He started an argument about which one of us is better qualified to be on the x-files. He told me he's tall, dark, and mysterious, and that I'm not mysterious enough for the Mulder-freaks. Whatever that means. I think he said something about being in the _Rocky Horror Picture Show _and crash-landing in a castle ship. He wasn't making a lot of sense. He seemed delusional. Oh, and I also believe he may have threatened my life."   
  


There was a long pause on Skinner's end of the line.   
  


"Sir?"   
  


Finally Skinner spoke. "Agent Doggett, have you been drinking?"   
  


Doggett sighed. "No, sir. I woke up. Mulder was sitting on my bed, and we talked. Not much of it made any sense, but I think he was trying to sell me on the x-files. I had him handcuffed, but when I turned around to call you, he disappeared. I have no idea where he went, or where he came from. I don't know what else to tell you."   
  


"All right." The assistant director didn't sound entirely convinced. "File a report in the morning. Word of advice, though: I'd leave out all that stuff about tall, dark, and mysterious if I were you. Now go back to sleep."   
  


Cringing, he hung up the phone. He couldn't believe what a fool Mulder had made of him. Doggett retrieved the handcuffs and twirled them on one finger as he walked to the window and looked out across the yard. For a split second, he thought he saw Mulder leaning against a tree. Then a pair of headlights from a passing car illuminated the trunk and he saw that what he'd thought to be Mulder was just a low-hanging branch swaying in the breeze. He turned to go back to bed, already planning what to say in his report. It would be an interesting report. It had been an interesting night.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_*******THE END*******_

_(c)2001 Jamie August_   
  


Comments, please? 

(Don't make me beg.) 


End file.
